


First Impressions

by Murataku



Category: Duncan and Mallory
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murataku/pseuds/Murataku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accidental dimension hopping, laughing at the less fortunate and mutual manipulation. How all good partnerships begin, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this and a few others for a while. Since we weren't given a huge amount of information about these characters in the three stories they appeared in, I've had to try to fill in the gaps myself. Hopefully, it all works for you guys. Enjoy!

The first time she saw him, he was just a black shape against the blazing sun, tall and dark with his long coat fluttering lightly in a wind that seemed almost designed to help people like him make good first impressions. The dramatic introduction he was undoubtedly aiming for was unfortunately ruined, mostly by the fact that the first time she saw him in all his carefully-planned, silhouetted glory, he was doubled over with laughter. And snorting. Loudly.

He later defended his actions, saying that the first time he saw her she was just a dirty brown shape wedged in a ditch in the middle of a desert. She looked pretty pathetic, so he knew he shouldn't laugh, but she had also managed to land in the one part of a very long ditch that had a fallen cactus in it. He didn't care how roughed-up you were, stuff like that was just funny. The rock the dirty shape hurled in his direction was, however, not funny at all (and the rock hurled at him years later for trying to defend his actions was just petty).

"Do you mind?" Asked the silhouette, bending down and extending a hand out to the dusty human(oid. Probably. In this place, you could never be sure) "I wear glasses, you know."

She glared at him, but took the hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Did I hit them?"

"No."

"Damn." After doing a quick check to make sure all her body parts were still present and more or less in the right positions, she turned her attention to the man she was probably going to have to call her "rescuer".

She was pleased to discover that he looked nowhere near as impressive as he had been trying to look. He was tall, sure, and dark too (Though it was difficult to tell if that was his natural skin colour, a well-developed tan or just bad lighting), but that was all he really had going for him. A thick mass of unruly black curls sat on top of his head while equally thick glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His impressive height, she noticed, was mostly due his long, awkward legs which, coupled with his skinny build and spindly arms, made him appear less tall and more lanky. And while his clothes were skilfully made and fitted him well, they were also obnoxiously bright. His long coat was bright green, for goodness sake. He didn't actually look all that bad and, as she later decided, his odd appearance had its own charms, but a first impression is a first impression, and when somebody's first impression of you is that you're the type to laugh at people in ditches, you're lucky if they don't just label you a total git and move on.

"Not to interrupt your meditation, but you sat on a cactus. You probably want to do something about that."

Having been returned to Earth (or wherever she was), she checked her back. Yes, there were indeed cactus needles there. Great. She started to glare at him as she picked them out, but caught herself in time. She was a smallish woman in distress, and judging from his attempt at an entrance he was the type who liked dramatics. Why not give him some? Silently thanking the dust for getting up her nose and making her eyes water, she let out a sniffle.

"W-Where am I?" She whimpered, trying her best to look frightened. Her knight in gaudy armour cocked his head to the side. "I-I was just...just with Mummy and..." She sniffled. "I'm so scaaared!" Going for broke, she threw her arms around the puzzled man, burying her head in his chest. And her hand in his pocket. He stumbled backwards slightly in surprise, then returned her embrace before gently removing her from his chest.

"Hey, now..." He smiled softly. "Relax, you're gonna be fine. You just did a little dimension hop. Happens all the time." Hooking an arm around hers, he started to lead her down a dusty road. "There's this little town not far from here. How about I take you there, explain what happened, and they'll take good care of you. So don't you worry, you're in good hands."

Still simpering away, she giggled and leaned against him a little harder. He stumbled slightly, then chuckled and tugged her a little closer. She knew these types, they were just waiting for a damsel in distress to save and sweep off her feet. This particular knight seemed a little odd, sure, but he was saying all the right things and had obviously practiced walking arm in arm because he had it perfect. He was holding her so well, she couldn't even feel her wallet pressing into her whenever her hip "accidentally" bumped into him.

Wait.

She stopped and (because he didn't seem to want to let her arm go) awkwardly used her free hand to check her pocket.

Oh damn.

Her lack of wallet-related discomfort wasn't due to any lady-escorting skill on his part. No, her lack of wallet-related discomfort, it turned out, was due to her lack of wallet.

Dropping all pretence, she wrenched her arm free and stepped back. The man crossed his arms and looked at her with an infuriatingly amused expression. "Yes, milady?" He chuckled.

She put her hands on her hips and scowled. "Give it a rest, creep. And gimmie my wallet back!"

Another chuckle. Jerk. "Ladies first."

Her jaw dropped in shock. "Wh...What!? How did you...Nobody ever notices!"

He shrugged. "Well, you did throw a rock at me. Pretty good indicator you're not as wholesome as you appear. Also...I did have some insider information." He smiled. "See, you just did a dimension hop, and I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about."

She nodded grumpily. "Maybe."

Dimension hopping. Still a secret in most places, but that was mostly because the act of finding out about dimension hopping was pretty much always intimately connected to the act of dimension hopping itself. As in, they were one and the same. It was a one-way trip, so nobody had ever come back to tell the story. Witnesses who tried to tell the story were usually met with gentle smiles and futures filled with clipboards and soft white walls. Or futures filled with appearances in trashy magazines, either way your credibility took a hit.

Hopping itself was a fairly boring event. You were in one place one moment, a totally different place the next. There was no fanfare, no nothing. This was her third hop, and by now she was used to it. She was, however, hoping this world had stumbled across flushing toilets. There was no need for a repeat of the Vindaloo Incident. Once was enough.

"So, I just happen to know that dimension hops only happen if you're in the right place at the right time and...oh yeah, if you would rather be absolutely anywhere else. Like, say, somebody cornered by the cops. Add that little fact to the obvious helpless damsel act and the hugging me for no good reason, and you get con-artist."

She paused. "So...you didn't actually feel me take it?"

"Not so much, no."

She grinned and pumped her fist in the air. "Yes!"

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't notice me take yours either, you know. I guess you were too swept up by your knight in shining armour?"

"Oh, yeah. Your feline grace as you dodged that rock, your manly voice as you whined about your glasses...it was all just too much."

He grinned. "Oh, she snarks."

"She does. She also wants her wallet back."

Nodding, he reached into an inside pocket of his coat and pulled out her wallet. He went to offer it to her, then stopped. "Give me mine first. What's stopping you from taking off the minute I hand it over?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to look like she hadn't been planning to do that. "Fine." She said, pulling out his wallet. "We'll do it both at the same time."

He nodded in agreement. Making sure they both had a grip on their own wallets, they let go of the other's. Instantly, she began to inspect her wallet, making sure everything was still in there. He was doing the same. She put on an obviously-fake look of hurt and sniffled.

"Don't you trust me, o brave knight?"

He countered her mock-distress with an exaggerated bow so deep he nearly smacked his nose into his leg.

"Of course, fair maiden. But trusting those delicate little fingers of yours is a different story."

Both satisfied that everything was still there, they put their wallets in their (other) pockets, linked arms and once again set off down the road. She glanced up at him.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Is it important?" He answered without looking.

"Unless you want me to call you Gogglor for the rest of your life, kind of."

He smiled. "Bilgewater." She opened her mouth to comment, but he was way ahead of her. "Yes, that's my name. My entire name. Blame my mother. Just call me Bilge. And don't start, it's the lesser of two evils, okay?" He bit his lip, then glanced down at her. The smile was still plastered on his face, and had in fact grown a little. "The rest of my life, huh?"

She nodded. "You really think I'm gonna let you out of my sight? I happen to like my shirt on my back, thanks very much."

Bilgewater smirked. "Alright. Well, if I'm gonna be seeing your face for the rest of my life, can I have a name to attach to it?"

"Sadie."

"Sadie?"

"That's right."

"Can I have a last name?"

She shook her head. "No way. I'll give you a clue, it's worse than yours."

"I doubt that."

Sadie stopped for a moment, then reached up on her tiptoes and whispered something into his ear. Bilgewater's eyes widened.

"Y-"

"Not. One. Word." She said through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a finger jab to his chest. He bit his lip in an attempt to stop his laughter and nodded.

"Wouldn't dream of mocking you."

"Good."

The name issue settled, they resumed their stroll.

"Oh, about this "for the rest of my life" thing." Bilgewater started, sensing changing the topic was a good idea.

Sadie looked up at his face. Again. She got the feeling she was going to be doing a lot of this. "Yeah?"

"If I'm stuck with you, I might as well get something out of it. Partners?"

Sadie nodded. "Partners." She thought it over. "This is just about money, you realise."

"Oh, obviously."

"I don't actually like you."

"I'm insufferable, I know."

"Just so we're clear."

"As crystal."

"Good."

And that was that. One with a flair for the dramatic might, at that point, imagine the point of view of an eagle soaring overhead. They might picture the scene as two new partners, one short and one tall, walking arm in arm into the setting sun, laughing and joking like old friends despite having only just met. They might even insert some music. Something stirring and hopeful and fit for a new beginning. But they probably wouldn't mention the sunburn from too much time in the desert, the cactus spines still stuck in Sadie's back or the rash both would get from the dust that had managed to work its gritty way into every item of clothing on their bodies.

And they certainly wouldn't mention the fact that this new partnership was built entirely on the promise of future profit.

Because it was.

Really.


End file.
